


The Commander and The Doctor

by asimplemind (softly_speaking_valkyrie)



Category: Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Age Difference, Confessions, Drinking, Drunken Confessions, Drunken Flirting, Drunken Shenanigans, Drunkenness, F/F, Girls Kissing, Implied Sexual Content, Kissing, Love, Mutual Pining, Neck Kissing, Pining, Reminiscing, Romance, Women Loving Women, wlw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-23
Updated: 2019-08-23
Packaged: 2020-09-24 11:48:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20357974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/softly_speaking_valkyrie/pseuds/asimplemind
Summary: During Shore Leave on the Citadel, Doctor Chakwas suggests a third and final bottle of Serrice Ice Brandy in Shepard's new Apartment. Hitting her a little harder this time, Shepard doesn't expect where the drinking session will take her and them both. Not only does she learn more about Chakwas, she learns more about herself in the process...





	The Commander and The Doctor

**Author's Note:**

> My Discord server asked for Shepwas so here it is and it's not that bad I don't think. This was something silly to get back into the swing of it.

Serrice Ice Brandy, a second bottle, for the third time. They had to stop doing this; Shepard could feel it messing with her sleeping patterns mixed in with the missions, adrenals and the other things flowing into and out of her system. The break on the Citadel had been a wild ride, wilder than the trip to Ilos years ago. But Shepard still couldn’t get over the feeling of having everyone so close to her, coming and going into and out of the apartment as they pleased. She’d been inviting everyone up and finally, Doctor Chakwas had brought up the topic of the third bottle of Serrice Ice Brandy.

Once more the mellow and mildly harsh taste of the barrel hit Shepard rough, twisting her brain like a lemon, and once more she was relaxing on the recliner of her sofa letting the drunkenness wash over her as she looked at her friend.

Doctor Chakwas looked as glazed over and now sluggish as Shepard was, just enjoying the wave of pleasure washing over them both, sipping the brandy neat (the Doctor’s suggestion and not the Commander’s) and simply watching the reels of their exploits going around and around on the television, remembering it all. Some of their vlogs the crew had shot on the Normandy back when she flew Cerberus flags were currently playing and Shepard remained mostly quiet, feeling more than tipsy. The negative feelings she new associated with the splinter cell swirled in her mind and she tried to block them out as she shared Karin’s company. She began to think of the last time they’d drank on the new Alliance Normandy when they mentioned how they referred to one another.

“So,” Shepard broke the silence, feeling it uncomfortable as she sat up and tried to centre herself mentally and physically. She looked into her glass of brandy and grimaced at what was left. “Not to address the elephant in the room here, Doctor, but...”

“You’re wondering about our last conversation with the brandy, correct, Commander?” Doctor Chakwas asked, smiling a little too enthusiastically. She must have found it funny deep inside, and her age complemented the look she pulled. Her deep sapphire blue eyes could tell no doubt a plethora of stories that Commander Shepard’s couldn’t. Between them, they probably outclass all of the Alliance personnel in terms of experience and age in the navy. But just how did the Doctor anticipate the Commander’s thoughts? Maybe she’d experienced all of this before.

Chakwas was a treasure trove of things even Shepard had never thought to excavate. In reality, without Pressley, Chakwas was probably the most suitable candidate to become the Normandy’s next Executive Officer. With no Miranda on the ship, technically Shepard didn’t have one. Joker handled the bird when the Commander was ashore, as Ashley disembarked too, and Vega and Cortez were both either too low ranking or unsuitable for the role. Shepard loved James, but he was not officer material on a warship yet – but he’d get there as an N7. Chakwas was the only other person Shepard could think of, and it made her smile.

“How could you tell, Doctor?” Shepard had no choice but to ask, pulling her legs up onto the sofa as if she was still a ten gassing with a college friend. This shore leave was the first time she’d actually taken a load off since that dream-like day on Eden Prime. Hack was something, but just not the same with everything going on. “Did my eyes give it away?” Shepard asked, a little too smiley.

The Doctor chuckled to herself neatly and sipped the brandy once more. “I suppose they did, Commander. With a psychology degree and plenty of experience with it, it’s rather second nature to sometimes anticipate one’s thoughts. You’re still considering my excuse for never using your first name, aren’t you, Commander?”

“It’s as if you can look right into my mind, Doctor,” Shepard admitted, taking another attempt to lower the contents of her glass. “I just can’t seem to wrap my head around it, is the problem,” she admitted.

Chakwas smiled, downing the rest of her drink and turning on the sofa, giving the Commander her undivided attention. Some of the reels of the crew and their documentation of the Normandy blended into the background. Hadley and some of the others were skulking around the engineering deck and generally annoying Zaeed Massani in his trash room. Grunt had joined them and the merc and the Krogan were currently arm wrestling on the television. Normally both would be amazed at how a human, and Zaeed at that, could even hold his arm up against a Krogan like Grunt.

“Commander,” Doctor Chakwas called to her, and Shepard snapped her attention directly at the older woman, feeling magnetised to the professional. Her voice was like candy in her tipsy state.

The older woman could see the red swirling in Shepard’s eyes and reached for her hand, pulling her up and forcing the Commander to blush before her. “I think you need a glass of water if you don’t mind me saying so, Commander.”

Shepard hummed in agreement and followed her to the bar, waiting on a barstool nearest to the sink as the Doctor poured her a glass. Shepard downed it almost in one gulp, trying to dilute all of the brandy in her system. The previous two times not only had she paced herself, but she’d had a full belly each time. This time she was fairly hungry and on an empty stomach from being so busy around the Platinum Strip. Now it was coming back to bite her as she downed the water. When Doctor Chakwas asked her if she needed more, Shepard didn’t hesitate to agree, until she found herself coming back from the brink and landing remotely on her feet. Chakwas pulled a small medical flashlight from her pocket and examined Shepard’s eyes from a safe distance so the lumens didn’t force a headache upon the Commander.

“You look fine for now, Commander. But perhaps we should hesitate on the brandy for now, yes?” Chakwas offered, putting the topper onto the glass bottle and serving up two root beers from the fridge.

“How did you know those were in there, Doctor? You missed the party...”

“I think I know David Anderson well enough to know that he’d have at least two of these in his fridge... Even if he hasn’t been in his own apartment for over two years; as Captain of the first Normandy he’d keep at least one bottle of the stuff in his personal cabin for when he seriously needed it. Never alcohol, only root beer,” Chakwas told to Shepard, popping the caps off and smelling the sugar sift from the insides and grimacing a little at the stench of it.

Shepard glugged a swig more than a little quickly and gasped at the refreshment. It’d been too long since she’d sampled traditional Earth sodas. “Not a fan, Doc?” She asked.

“No, not really, Commander. I haven’t ever had a sweet tooth, I have to admit. But root beer was always something I avoided. Pop was more level. And yes, even on Mars we had more traditional drinks and foodstuffs from Earth. Mother and Father were Britain-born, they had a knack for the past,” she explained, getting ahead of herself into the story as she begrudgingly drank from the root beer bottle. It wasn’t unbearable, just nothing she’d found she liked; and yet she drank it anyway to join Commander Shepard in on it, who was drinking it like it was the sweetest thing on the Citadel. “I’m getting ahead of myself,” Chakwas stopped. “Forgive me, Commander.”

Shepard’s hand fell onto the Doctor’s on the counter and she gave Chakwas wanton and still slightly drunken eyes. She was vastly engrossed. “Please, continue, Doctor. I don’t think I’ve ever heard you talk about your home before,” Shepard spoke right. In fact, the pair had never really discussed life outside of Normandy or the Alliance. This was the only time Shepard had learned that Chakwas as a degree in psychology as well as medicine and alien biology.

Chakwas didn’t look at the Commander’s hand on her own, or even acknowledge it, she simply turned her palm in Shepard’s and ended up holding it anyway.

“And what about you, Commander? Where did the great Commander Shepard start?”

They were exchanging glances, both eager. “I thought you’d know, Doc. Isn’t it all in my file? Along with even my first name,” Shepard teased gently, holding her hand a little more tenderly. She drank the rest of the root beer without breaking eye contact and suddenly this turned into a game indeed.

“I’m afraid I wouldn’t dream of observing the personal details of a Commander outside of the essentials and medical history. Call it fate, Commander but I don’t know all that much about you, only what we’ve experienced together.”

“You can use my first name, Doc. I know you said, but...”

Chakwas laughed, the drink getting to her a little bit after all. Shepard hadn’t heard her laugh like that before – it was completely carefree and casual, which wasn’t something Chakwas ever seemed to be even outside of the Med Bay. Even when talking with Addams she was still slightly stiff, slightly medical and surgical, as if always ready to treat someone on the operating bed.

The laugh made Shepard smile all the more, her arm reaching upward and tracing down the Doctor’s forearm as she looked at the movements her finger made. “Come on, Doc. We’re both adults here. There’s no doctor/patient confidentiality about first names,” Shepard tried a little further, her voice changing to the sultry tone she often took with women. Her blush bloomed again and her lips were glistening in a glaze of the sugary root beer. The buzz it gave her outbalanced the alcohol for now, and she was feeling bold.

Looking into the beacons of blue eyes ahead of her, Shepard couldn’t deny anymore than she found Chakwas attractive. There had always been that edge to the Doctor, the slightly professional appeal that Shepard could taste, but like this, with her walls down and even laughing; the Commander could not deny she was attracted to her. She looked from eyes to lips to nose to chin and even to Chakwas’ collarbone under the high-collared lab-uniform the Doctor was still wearing. With the edge of the drink slightly off of her, Shepard couldn’t help but imagine the Doc’s body underneath. Her fluid movements gave a signal that this was a first time in a while that the Doctor had let down her duty and eased off for a time. She was acting more like a woman and a person before a Doctor.

“I wouldn’t dream of disrespecting you like that, Commander,” Chakwas chuckled, barely able to contain her glee as she held Shepard’s arm close, edging over the lip of the bar as if to get closer. What stories could her eyes tell of her when she was like this. Age brought experience but Shepard wasn’t at all thinking of that, only the joyous smile on the Doctor’s lips and the glistening shine of her teeth, as well as the graceful and beautiful lines all over her face.

Shepard didn’t even know the Doctor’s age, only that the grey beauty in her hair told everyone she had one. It didn’t matter. That age only made the woman all the more beautiful. The light caught her perfectly and reflections of her youth implied past beauty only as reinforcement. Chakwas was almost angelic now.

“Karin...” Shepard came out with rather suddenly. She was getting lost in not only the Doctor’s eyes but her company too. “It wouldn’t ever be disrespect. You’ve been here since the beginning, Karin, always in that Med Bay, no matter who needed you or what for. You’ve served your duty more than any officer in the Alliance Navy.”

“Commander...”

“Thank you, Karin...” Shepard found herself confessing with a wholesome smile, both hands in Chakwas’ and holding her fingers. “It really wouldn’t be the Normandy with you, Doctor.”

Suddenly, yet rather slowly, they began to drift closer together with Shepard leaning over the bar to meet the Doctor’s lips. Closing the gap sensually, Shepard felt herself losing her sense of surroundings, holding Karin’s hands in one of hers and planting the other one onto the bar counter to steady and stabilise herself. The vast majority of the drink was creeping into the background as she gave herself up to Doctor Chakwas.

Karin hesitated as their lips grew to be so close together, looking so deeply into the Commander’s eyes and calculating all of the variables around their current situation. Shepard looked back at her, just waiting and completely okay if she didn’t want this. Chakwas was older for sure, but it didn’t matter. After a second, she breathed out her last and slipped closer still, their lips colliding together. The kiss was like a fine wine – an unorthodox combination of Serrice Ice Brandy and old fashioned American root beer meshing sugar with alcohol, yet Karin’s lips were sweet and tender. Of course, not as plump as Liara’s or someone else, but Shepard kissed her beautifully and could smell the peaches of the Doctor’s perfume radiate from her neck, making the taste of Karin’s lips all the more intoxicating. It was folly to say Shepard didn’t feel slightly younger than she was. The gap between them was playful, and Shepard seemed to internally giggle as she caressed the Doctor’s neck and cheek, cupping it in her hand. Chakwas reached forward, holding the Commander’s hips and guiding her as she launched forward until she was sitting on the inner counter of the bar. And their bodies came together.

The heat between them was mild and they both felt slightly numb, kissing deeper and deeper as it felt so organic too. The sounds of the crew of the Normandy filled the room, encountering different shenanigans but both Shepard and Chakwas couldn’t hear it for the life of them.

Shepard reached for the Doctor’s neck with her teeth, and Chakwas surprisingly aided her, bringing her hand to the high neck of her uniform and pulling off the clips, releasing the rest of her body. It was as if the whole apartment and the world faded to black as Shepard kissed lower and lower, finding Karin’s neck and the ample flesh on her collarbone, hearing the sweet Doctor moaning little by little under the breath the lower Shepard navigated her kissed and nibbles.

Before the end, Shepard listened closely as Chakwas knotted her gloved fingers in the Commander’s bright red hair and whined a little. “Oh, Commander... _Jane..._”


End file.
